


The Light of the Heart

by AbAbsurdo



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Affection, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:20:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27529873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbAbsurdo/pseuds/AbAbsurdo
Summary: Thomas came to London to meet Richard for the first time after the Royal visit.He second guesses himself.Will Richard be worthy of his affection?
Relationships: Thomas Barrow/Richard Ellis
Comments: 15
Kudos: 49





	The Light of the Heart

London. Mid November.

His coat was already wet from the drizzling, and his feet frozen. He had been wandering in the gloomy streets since he had come off the train hours ago. It didn’t rain when he found a room to rent for the night. He had left his valise there and after washing his face, he was out the door as if the room was resided by demons.

He didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts.

He avoided people's glances by looking down, hiding half his face, hands deep in his pockets.

He longed for a cigarette, if only to hold it between his fingers. To calm him down. But he had stopped smoking two years ago. He still remembered the first time he tried to smoke after waking up alive. It had been over a week when he had been left without a supervisor controlling and judging his every movement and he had found his packet of cigarettes. Then, just like now, he craved for one, to take his mind off his concerns. The familiar weight between his lips, the smell of the lighter, the first orange burn of the cigarette, and the smoke going down his throat, coating his lungs. Breathing turned difficult, a heavy weight on his chest trying to steal away the remaining of his life. An unwanted life at that point, but still there, still fighting to keep him on the shore, not permitting the wave of his sorrow to pull him away.

He had tried smoking again. Always ending up retching over a bowl or on the ground. He carried cigarettes with him no more.

Still, he would not say no to one now. Even if it meant retching all over the pavement. It would distract him from his thoughts.

He should not have come.

Did he really wish for another disaster when his life had settled down?

The drizzle changed into a downpour and he found himself changing his step to a firmer, quicker one. He was soon at the address he had written in the note taking residence in his pocket. He thought twice before entering. He could go back, wait at the station, take the train back and be to Downton Abbey without meeting Richard Ellis.

He smiled self-deprecatingly imagining his younger self scoffing at him and his cowardice. Sure, no one would accuse him of being brave, but Thomas Barrow of fifteen years earlier would not stand outside a pub, getting wet due to fear of meeting a handsome man. He would have latched at the chance. Too bad he did not have many of those, back then, huh?

Mr. Ellis expected him in the pub.

Thomas thought he’d have gotten time to come and meet him in the train station.

He would if Ellis had come to visit him.

Mr. Ellis worked in the royal household. His relationships with his colleagues weren’t like the ones he had developed with his own the last couple of years. He couldn’t just leave.

Neither could Thomas, for that matter.

Still, Ellis was the one who picked the day for the meeting. Ellis was the one who had given him the keyring resting inside his pocket, keeping company to the note Thomas had scribbled quickly when they talked on the telephone the last time. Ellis had saved him from the jail. Ellis had kissed him. Ellis wanted to meet again.

Thomas wanted it too.

The heavy door opened and there was the man whom Thomas came to London to meet. His eyes widened seeing him just standing there under the heavy rain.

“Here you are.” There was the smirk that had been ingrained in Thomas’ memories like a thunder in the darkness of the night. Ellis gave his hand for a shake and Thomas’ gloved her touched his naked one, first gently then with more strength. Ellis gestured towards the entrance he had just come out from. “Do you want to come in?” He was still holding his hand. “Or do you want to go someplace else for dinner?”

Thomas glanced down and their hands. “Whatever you have planned.”

Ellis pulled him inside the pub. “We’ll wait here for a while in case it stops raining and then I have a place we can go to. To get dry.”

Thomas followed him, removed his hat and coat, and placed it carefully on the third chair in the table Ellis had picked for them. He sat slowly and rested his hands on his knees when he noticed he was still wearing his gloves. He pulled them off carefully keeping the one that covered his old war wound in place.

If asked later, Thomas wasn’t certain what they had talked that first hour. Ellis -call me Richard- had gone on and on about the dreadful weather and promised him to take care of his coat when they’d go at his place.

“Do you have your own place?” Thomas eventually asked.

“It belonged to the man who was the King’s valet before me. He sold the license to me before he moved to the countryside.

“He grew tired of the city life?”

“He met a man who lived in the country and thought he should take a leap to get the life he dreamed of,” Richard lowered his voice to a whisper and Thomas had to move his head closer to listen to him clearly. He couldn’t and didn’t want to hide the smile at Richard’s words.

After that, the time passed by quickly. Thomas’ stomach unclenched, and he replied to Richard’s questions about the life in Downton Abbey.

Thomas grew colder the longer they stayed in the pub. When he sneezed, Richard rested his hand on his knee carefully. “Come on, let’s go or you’ll catch a cold.”

They both stood and took their coats. “Don't you have anything with you?” asked Richard, looking around for Thomas' valise trying to remember if he had seen the other man carrying anything with him.

“It’s in the room I rented for tonight and tomorrow,” said Thomas dusting the lapels of his coat. He missed the paraffin smell as nerves returned.

Richard’s face fell. “You rented a room?”

“Close to the train station, yes.” He shifted his weight from side to side, watching the drops of rain falling slowly on the wet ground. “Come with me?”

Richard took a moment to answer. “Of course. Let’s hurry, it will rain again.” He had an umbrella, but Thomas had left it in his room as hurried as he had been.

Thomas led the way, and Richard followed. Thomas was uncertain even as his hand was wrapped around the keyring in his pocket. A night of open discussion and a kiss before leaving him alone didn’t mean anything more than that. Thomas knew better than anyone else, it might very well mean nothing.

Feelings were not a necessity for a kiss.

Letters could get burn. By the sender.

Kisses could turn to a nightmare.

He knew all that, but butterflies in his stomach begged him to believe.

They passed from the reception carefully unseen by any curious eyes. Thomas closed and locked the door behind them. He turned to Richard who was grinning. “It never stops being fun.”

“Fun?”

“You know, hiding, snooping around to meet a beautiful boy.”

“Fun,” Thomas repeated but he didn’t remember it being fun. The dread of being discovered, of being rejected, of making a mistake.

It was never fun. Not before. Not afterwards.

It was warmer in the room than it had been outside, but dark. Richard watched Thomas carefully lighting the oil lamp. They could use electricity instead of the oil lamp but watching Thomas Barrow doing something so mundane was breathtaking.

Job done, Thomas turned to look at him. “What?”

“Nothing.” The boyish smile was back. Thomas gazed at the other man, who was leaning against the back of a chair looking at him half amused, half longing.

Thomas tried to restrain himself. He removed his coat and turned around to find a place to hang it but he felt Richard stepping close to him, behind him, leaning over to take the coat from Thomas’ suddenly heavy hand. “I promised to help you with your coat, didn’t I?”

He stood too close to Thomas, his breathe almost touching Thomas’ cold face, warming it, bringing colour to the usual paleness. “What do you want to do?”

“Make sure you can wear it tomorrow. And the day after.”

“I can do that myself. I have also been a valet. I know how to take care of a coat.”

“I have no doubt Mr. Barrow you can take care of everything under you and your hands.”

And Thomas could, but having someone doing the work for him was unfamiliar. Warmth coiled in his stomach and travelled up his chest, in contrast to the chilliness of the room.

Richard was still smiling, his hands closed gently in the cloth of Thomas’ coat. He raised his hands and brought it to his face, inhaling deeply, his eyes never leaving Thomas’.

Thomas could interpret Richard’s actions wrong, couldn't he? It wouldn't be the first time.

Richard didn’t want anything from him to lead him on like Pamuk had done. Why was memory so cruel to bring that back in the forefront of his mind? Pamuk had been dead for almost fifteen years, and his ghost still haunted Thomas. Being manipulated, having his nature used against him in such a ruthless way had burned a wound in his confidence, once so bright and brave.

Richard let the coat on the bed and took another step towards Thomas, who thought of Jimmy and feelings drowned in dark waves of sorrow and loss.

Could he dare hope again?

Richard’s smirk turned gentle, honest. A real smile.

Thomas understood Richard wanted him to make the first move this time, to not have a kiss stolen by time and orders to hurry up.

They stood close, noses almost touching, breathing slowly even as Thomas’ heart pounded in his chest.

Thomas raised his hand slowly. He cupped Richard’s cheek feeling warm skin touching warm skin. Would Richard leave him alone? Feel insulted? Blackmail him to do his dirty work.

Thomas knew deep down it was nonsense. Richard would never do that. Would he?

Richard leaned right into Thomas’ touch, silently asking for more, more of this contact, more of Thomas. Richard's hand found its way to Thomas's hip, where it rested unmoving, fingers gripping bone gently. He rubbed his cheek against Thomas's hand like a cat.

The heaviness of Thomas' doubts in his stomach lifted. Affection was not something Thomas had encountered many times in his life. He hadn't only been deprived of receiving it but giving it as well. Feeling Richard coming closer to him, asking with his whole body for more touch, his own hand connecting with soft, newly shaved skin, the part of his character he had shoved in a dark corner because it had brought him nothing but pain rose to life again.

Richard observed him carefully, his eyes flicked from Thomas' steady gaze, down to his mouth, and up again, as if waiting for him to take the next step and Thomas was surprised when instead Richard's mouth covered his. His hand moved to Richard's neck, caressing skin, and hair, and he permitted himself tp wash in the sensation of kissing and being kissed.

No one around to interrupt them this time, and Richard's idle hand was on his own cheek, thumb stroking his cheekbone, little finger brushing gently against the sensitive skin behind his ear. This was better than their first kiss, just as spontaneous but fearless and intent, focused, certain in its desire and yearning.

"Wish you had come to my place," Richard whispered on Thomas' lips, just as he brushed another kiss on them, slowly, and another, soft and sweet.

Against the window, the rain pounded on the wooden shatters. They both trembled.

"We have time," Thomas replied, lightheaded by the excitement of the moment, as his arms wrapped on their own volition around Richard's waist pulling him closer.

"That, we have."

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [naevery's post](https://naevery.tumblr.com/post/188094053628/thomas-and-expressing-affection) in tumblr.
> 
> These are the only words I managed to type this month. 


End file.
